Skadi trudged down the icy corridor toward Hub 3, her boots clicking against the frost-slick streets of the Hold. Fenrik's words still echoed in her head, veiled threats and half-truths she couldn't shake.

She rounded a corner and stopped short.

Someone crouched near the control panel outside the restricted zone of Hub 7. A man in gray maintenance coveralls, utility belt slung low. Nothing unusual at first glance. But he moved with too much precision. His fingers glided over the panel like someone who belonged, but his eyes kept flicking down the corridor.

He wasn't one of theirs.

Skadi leaned against the wall, watching.

She knew every tech who worked this block. She would've remembered someone with dark hair streaked in silver and a face that looked too composed for manual labor.

Finally, she stepped forward. "You're not supposed to be here."

The man froze. Just for a second. Then he stood, calm and composed.

"Neither are you, technically," he said, his voice carrying a faint accent she couldn't place. "This is a restricted zone."

"I work here," she said, arms crossing. "You don't."

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Skadi Eisfall, right?"

Her stomach dropped. "How do you know my name?"

"Your report. Very thorough, by the way." He gestured vaguely toward the pipe junction. "I've read everything Haven's logged about your sighting."

"You're with Haven?" she asked, already knowing the answer was more complicated.

"Not exactly." He slipped a card from his pocket and flashed it: Inspector Dorian Kess. The emblem beside it wasn't one she recognized. Asharan, maybe.

Her eyes narrowed. "Ashara? What are you doing here?"

"Your little ice rock caught my attention," Kess said. "Haven doesn't shut down a facility unless they're scared. I like scared. It usually means something interesting is happening."

"You still haven't answered how you know my name."

"Because you're in the middle of something," he said bluntly. "Bigger than a burst pipe or even a riot. Haven knows it. Now Ashara does too. I'm here to find out what's really going on."

Skadi hesitated. Her mother's voice tugged at the edge of her thoughts.

Stay quiet, keep your head down.

But something about Kess made it hard to look away. His focus was like a scalpel.

"There was something in the pipes," she said finally. "It swam out when the pipe burst."

"What did it look like?" he asked, voice suddenly sharpened.

"Big. Sleek. Almost eel-like. With... glowing lines in its skin. Like veins."

Kess muttered something under his breath, too soft to catch, and gave a grim nod. "That tracks."

"Tracks with what?"

He stepped a little closer, his voice dropping. "Have you heard of a woman named Akiko?"

The name landed in the air like a spark in dry grass.

"No," Skadi said, frowning. "Should I have?"

"She's... a specialist," Kess said carefully. "Not on the books. Not exactly friendly with Haven. But she has a tendency to show up where things start getting strange. A few months ago, she blew open a facility on Ashara. Similar anomaly, unnatural lifeforms. One got loose."

Skadi's mouth went dry. "You think she's involved here?"

"I think she might be the only one who understands it."

He tapped his wrist display, angling it toward her. "You'd recognize her if you saw her."

A portrait flickered into view. A woman with dark hair, sharp amber eyes, and foxlike ears rising from beneath a hood. A tail curled behind her, half-visible in the static-framed shot.

Skadi blinked. "That's real?"

Kess nodded. "We've confirmed the image. And before you ask: no, it's not a splice job."

Skadi studied the image again, something tightening behind her ribs. "That's not someone you forget."

"Not if you want to survive," Kess said. "Where Akiko goes, things shift. Institutions crack. People start asking the wrong questions."

Skadi tried to keep her voice steady. "And what happens when people start asking?"

Kess smiled faintly. "Usually? Things explode."

She let out a breath. "That's not comforting."

"I didn't say it was," he said. "But it's the truth."

He reached into his coat and pulled a slim chip from a side pouch, pressing it into her palm.

"If you see anything else, use that. It'll ping my relay. Don't let Haven intercept it."

She looked down at the chip, then back up, but he was already turning away.

"Kess," she called.

He paused but didn't turn.

"Why are you warning me?"

He shrugged. "Because you noticed something everyone else wants to forget. That tends to get people killed."

And with that, he slipped into the corridor's shadows and was gone.

Skadi stood there alone, the comm chip heavy in her palm.

Akiko.

Whoever she was, her name had just changed the shape of the problem.

Skadi pocketed the comm chip and turned toward the corridor's main artery. Her boots echoed off the metal floor, every step more distant than the last.

Somewhere, voices barked orders. Somewhere else, machinery groaned to life. She filed it all away beneath the static.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Requests, tools, clamps, codes. She worked without thinking, numbed by routine and wrapped in the silence that followed Kess's warning. Just another pipe. Just another junction. Just another system slowly failing under pressure.

Around mid-cycle, she was rerouted to the docking bay's main water feed. She barely registered the task until the last fitting clicked into place and the panel's readout flashed green.

She slid the hatch open and hauled herself into the service stairwell, brushing dust and ice crystals from her sleeves. The sound hit her first. Chanting, rumbling voices carried by cold, recycled air.

Then she saw the crowd.

The protest had grown larger than she expected. People packed the square near the water processing facility, spilling into the narrow streets that led toward the landing zone. Makeshift signs bobbed above the sea of heads, their slogans scrawled with anger and desperation:

NO WATER, NO LIFE!

HAVEN PROFITS, ZEPHARA SUFFERS!

OUR ICE, OUR FUTURE!

Skadi pulled her jacket tighter against the chill and edged closer to the fringe of the gathering. The air buzzed with tension. Hope curdled by hunger. Fury thinned by fatigue.

These people weren't just angry. They were drowning. And the only thing on the horizon was another outbound hauler, ready to steal more water than they could afford to lose.

She scanned the perimeter, eyes catching on shapes that didn't belong. The signs, the shouting, even the anger. They all fit. It was the stillness that caught her eye.

Five figures stood near the far edge of the barricade. Too calm. Too composed. Their gazes tracked the crowd like predators, not participants.

Skadi's stomach turned.

The crowd's noise faltered as a low rumble rolled through the cavernous Hold.

Heads tilted back toward the distant ceiling, barely visible through haze and frost-choked lighting, where a battered ice-hauler drifted down on sputtering thrusters.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The ship loomed massive above them, kicking up swirling grit as it descended. Light shimmered off its scarred hull, an ugly patchwork of repairs, just like everything else on Zephara.

Then the shouting started again. Louder, closer to fury. Protesters surged toward the barricades, fists raised. Signs waved. A bottle shattered somewhere off to the side.

And then she saw her.

A figure stepped from the hauler's ramp, silhouetted against its landing lights. Slight of build, but her presence carved a fault line through the crowd.

She moved with purpose, her gaze cast over the crowd with quiet intensity. No arrogance in her posture. No fear in her eyes.

A hood shaded her face, but black fox ears twitched below the fabric. Unmistakable even from this distance.

Akiko.

The name hit Skadi like a dropped wrench. Kess's voice rushed back: Where Akiko goes, things shift. Usually, they explode.

And now, here she was.

"Little sister," a voice murmured close to her ear.

Skadi jumped.

Fenrik stood beside her, jaw set tight. His usual easy grin was gone. Replaced by something harder. More guarded.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your nose clean?" he said.

"What are you—" she began.

"Not now." His eyes locked on Akiko. "Just watch."

The first sign of violence came like a crack in the ice. Sharp. Sudden.

Someone in the crowd reeled back, clutching their face. Blood streamed through their fingers.

Chaos followed. A surge. Shouts. The barricade buckled.

And the figures Skadi had clocked earlier? They moved. Fast, efficient, weaving through the crowd like they weren't even part of it.

They were moving toward Akiko.

"Fenrik," she hissed, grabbing his arm. "Who are they? What's happening?"

He didn't answer. His attention was fixed on the operatives. Not panicked. Not surprised.

She couldn't tell if he was worried, or impressed.

"Go home, Skadi," he said, voice sharp now.

"What—?"

"This isn't your fight."

He stepped away from her and vanished into the crowd.

Skadi stood frozen, swallowed by noise and motion, the shape of the riot already bending around the newcomer.

The tension in the air pressed down like the recycled heat in a failing hub. Stale, sour, and ready to combust.

The mercenaries in Haven colors fanned out with uncanny precision. But their formation was too clean, too efficient. More professional than the underpaid hacks that Haven had patrolling the corridors. These were hunters in uniform.

"Clear the area. This is a restricted zone," one barked, voice sharp and practiced.

Before Skadi could process the order, another voice cut through the rising silence like a blade.

"Restricted? Since when does Haven own the air I breathe?" Akiko's voice was steady, unshaken, cutting through the noise like a blade.

A second woman stepped out behind her. Shorter than Akiko, with black hair framing her face and a quiet composure that stood in contrast to the kitsune's animated energy. Her hands hung loosely at her sides, but her gaze tracked every movement. Not a fighter, maybe. But dangerous all the same.

The mercenaries circled like wolves, forming a wide arc. Their weapons gleamed. Too sleek for Haven standard issue. Pale energy flickered at their wrists and belts.

Skadi's throat tightened. This was an ambush.

The lead mercenary stepped forward. "Akiko Tsukihara. You're coming with us."

Akiko tilted her head. Her tail flicked lazily into view, slow and deliberate.

"You've got the wrong kitsune," she said, grinning. "I'm just here for the free drinks."

No one laughed.

"Resisting will make this worse," the mercenary warned.

"Worse?" Her laugh was sharp, wild. "Buddy, it's already bad. For you."

Then she moved.

Skadi barely saw it. One moment Akiko was standing; the next, she was a blur of flame and motion. Her claws ignited in a flash of ethereal fire, slicing toward the nearest armored figure. Shields sprang to life, silver arcs of light crackling under the impact.

The mercenaries countered fast. Too fast.

This wasn't a street brawl. It was something else. Choreographed violence. Precise and brutal. Sparks flew with each strike.

Akiko twisted between them like liquid flame, her movements beautiful and terrifying.

The second woman, Akiko's companion, stood back at first, hands outstretched. A golden shimmer wrapped Akiko's limbs mid-strike, redirecting her momentum after a deflected blow.

A shield? A boost? Skadi couldn't tell. She only knew Akiko didn't fall.

She adapted. Each motion became sharper, cleaner. It didn't feel fair.

Skadi's heart pounded as if her body couldn't decide whether to run or stay and watch. She clutched the edge of the railing, knuckles white.

"Quite the fireworks show, isn't it?"

The voice was soft, strange, and far too close.

Skadi turned with a start, then froze.

A figure hovered beside her, small as a child's toy, with translucent wings and a grin too wide for her face. The creature leaned against a rust-stained pipe like she belonged there, like this was just another night at the theater.

"What… what are you?" Skadi whispered.

The creature winked. "Sifra. And you, dear one, are having a very interesting day."

Skadi gaped. "Are you real?"

Sifra fluttered her wings in amusement. "Real as you. Maybe more."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Most important things don't," Sifra said, shrugging. "But here we are. Foxes, mercs, fey, and a riot that's about to break something important. My kind of evening."

Skadi narrowed her eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Because this is the moment the story changes," Sifra said, tone lilting. "And I like being close when the lines get rewritten."

She floated in front of Skadi now, hands clasped behind her back. "And you… well. You'll matter more than you think."

Skadi took a step back. "I'm just a maintenance tech."

Sifra smirked. "Sure. Keep saying that. See how long it stays true."

A shout from below drew both their gazes.

Akiko had drawn three mercenaries into a tight circle, claws flashing as she spun. One lunged, only to be deflected by that same golden shimmer. Her companion stepped forward now, calling something Skadi couldn't hear. Her hands blazed.

And Akiko responded.

Her next strike shattered a shield with explosive force, sending the mercenary flying.

The riot surged again around her. Fear, awe, confusion boiling over.

Skadi gripped the railing harder.

"What are they?" she whispered.

Sifra's eyes twinkled. "Oh, you'll find out. But not yet."

The mercenary leader barked an order, and more of his soldiers surged forward from the edges of the crowd where they had lingered unseen, trying to overwhelm Akiko through sheer numbers.

Skadi clenched her fists. This wasn't a fair fight, it was a coordinated takedown. One person, even one as fast as Akiko, couldn't keep pace forever.

"Relax," Sifra murmured from her perch on a nearby railing, lazily twirling a lock of her hair. "She's got this. Probably."

"Probably?!" Skadi hissed. She could feel the vibration of every impact through the deck. The clang of metal, the hiss of displaced air as Akiko slipped through another strike.

A flash of light blinded her for half a heartbeat. A pulse of fire erupted from Akiko's position, arcing outward like a shockwave. Two mercenaries hit the deck hard, weapons skittering across the metal. Their suits' shields flickered violently, failing to stabilize.

Skadi blinked away the afterimage, pulse roaring. "What in the stars was that?"

"A perfectly timed application of chaos," Sifra said, sounding unreasonably smug. "Our dear Akiko's specialty."

But the remaining mercenaries didn't flinch. Two circled wide, trying to flank her. The leader, a hulking brute encased in matte-black armor etched with red rune lines, barked new commands.

"Contain her! Don't let her—"

His order cut short as Akiko twisted mid-step. Her tail snapped sideways, and with it came another ignition of fire, condensed and vicious. The blaze arced toward the leader like a comet.

His shield barely held, but the impact slammed into him, forcing him backward. His boots screeched against the icy deck, momentum stealing his footing.

"Not bad," Sifra mused. "But she's getting sloppy. She's burning through mana faster than I can make snarky comments about it."

Skadi saw it too. Akiko's strikes were still precise, but her movement had shifted. Heavier now. A subtle hitch crept into her dodges. Her foxfire flickered, no longer a steady flame but something struggling to stay lit.

"Should we help her?" Skadi asked, trying to keep her voice low, and failing.

Sifra rolled her eyes. "I'd love to see you try. No offense, mountain girl, but unless you've been hiding some secret ninja training, you'd last maybe three seconds out there." She paused, thoughtful. "Though I'd be extremely entertained."

Skadi scowled. "Not helping."

"Relax, relax," Sifra said, fluttering from her perch to hover in front of Skadi's face. "I told you, she's got this. Probably."

As if on cue, Akiko launched forward again.

Her momentum blurred the space between her and the nearest mercenary. Her foxfire claws hissed to full length. Jagged, blue-white, casting strobe-like shadows across the deck.

The mercenary raised a blade bright with the same strange energy that flooded their gear, but too slow.

The clash rang out, bright steel screaming against blue-white flames. Sparks scattered in a halo around them. Akiko ducked under his counter, legs sweeping low in a perfect arc.

The icy floor betrayed him.

He toppled hard, armor slamming against the deck. Before he could roll, Akiko surged forward. One clawed hand drove into the side of his helmet. The impact sizzled, molten gouges carved through alloy. He stopped moving.

The remaining mercenaries hesitated.

Their leader was still off-balance. Two of their own were unconscious. The rhythm had broken.

Akiko straightened slowly. Her chest heaved with exertion. And her eyes, those strange, amber-lit eyes, glowed in the dim haze of smoke and frost. She grinned like someone who already knew the ending.

"Anyone else?" she called, voice cutting through the bay like a blade.

Sifra clasped her hands together in mock reverence. "Oh, I love when she does the cocky thing. That's usually when things get interesting."

Skadi didn't feel reassured.

The two remaining mercenaries exchanged a glance. They weren't running yet. But they weren't attacking either.

Then, almost imperceptibly, the leader nodded.

A low rumble vibrated through the docking bay. A turret mounted high on the far wall swiveled with a hiss of pressured servos. Its barrel glowed ominously as it locked on to Akiko.

All around them, the crowd finally broke. Shouts turned to screams. Dockworkers, agitators, and opportunists alike scrambled for the exits, desperate to be anywhere else when the shooting started. The docking bay became a churn of bodies and dropped possessions, fear clearing the floor in seconds.

"Oh no," Skadi breathed.

"Oh yes," Sifra corrected, grinning wide. "Now it's a party."

Targeting lasers painted jagged lines across the walls and deck, converging on Akiko as she stood at the center of the chaos. Her claws still burned with fire, breath visible in the frigid air. For one heartbeat, she didn't move.

She was stillness in a storm.

Then the turret fired.

A searing beam slashed through the air, carving across the frost-slicked deck like a blade. Skadi's heart jumped into her throat as the blast struck Akiko square in the chest.

A golden shield burst to life, radiant and shimmering. It flared outward with a sonic pulse as it caught the beam, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface. But it held.

"She just took a turret shot," Skadi whispered.

"Yep," Sifra said, far too cheerfully. "Now watch this."

Before Skadi could blink, Akiko moved.

Flames flared across her frame, cloaking her in an aura of molten light. She launched upward in a single, explosive leap, the moon's low gravity turning it into a soaring arc. The turret pivoted to track her, targeting lasers slicing frantically through the air.

Too late.

Akiko twisted midair, her body corkscrewing with impossible grace. Her fire blazed brighter, raw energy crackling with propulsion as she flipped cleanly over the beam's line. She landed on the turret with feline precision, claws igniting anew.

The impact rang out across the chamber, turret servos groaning in protest.

Akiko didn't hesitate.

She plunged her claws into the barrel. Heat shimmered from the contact, the metal glowing red as molten sparks sprayed into the air. The smell of scorched steel and burned flesh choked the bay.

With a guttural growl, she wrenched the claws down.

Metal screamed.

The barrel split open with a sickening screech, torn clean. Akiko tossed the ruined piece aside like discarded scrap. The turret sagged, its glow fading.

Silence fell.

Only the soft crackle of dissipating energy lingered.

Akiko stood atop the smoking turret, chest heaving, amber eyes scanning for any lingering threats. Her silhouette glowed in the haze. Burning. Alive.

Skadi's jaw had gone slack. She couldn't move.

"And that," Sifra said beside her, smug and reverent all at once, "is why you don't mess with a kitsune."

Akiko dropped lightly from the turret. She landed without a stumble, though her armor was scorched and her shield visibly failing. The remaining mercenaries, halfway to regrouping, looked at their leader still struggling to rise and made the only smart choice left.

They ran.

Akiko let them.

Her fire faded, breath slowing. She turned toward Skadi. Her tail swept behind her, steady but low.

"You okay?" she asked, voice even. Tinged with exhaustion, but unshaken.

Skadi nodded, mute. Words wouldn't come.

Only when Sifra fluttered in front of her face, expression smug and satisfied, did the spell break.

"Told you she had this. Probably," the fairy said with a wink. "Turns out it was more of a definitely."

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